


Worlds Apart

by hiat



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7031737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiat/pseuds/hiat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyki is a man of two halves. Though he knows he is only as good as his darkest moment, he desperately plays at the life of a simple man who spends his days laughing and drinking with his friends. He hopes that it's enough to keep his humanity intact as he slips ever deeper into the shadows of organised crime. While indulging in his life away from the 'Noah Clan' Tyki encounters a strange man with silver-white hair and a guarded smile who keeps showing up in the most unlikely of places. Poker Pair, Gang Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man am I rubbish at summaries, and titles, and writing...  
> Rating is likely to change in later chapters but I will absolutely give you a warning at the beginning of the chapter.   
> Constructive criticism is welcome but please be nice. :)

A brisk wind swept through the street, making the huddled figures draw their coats tighter to them. The sun had long since disappeared, its journey through the sky always a little shorter in winter. Burning orange street lamps bounced grey into the heavens and trailed long shadows beyond their reach. A tall man passed behind one such lamp and climbed the steps to a block of apartments - his apartment block, to be exact. He wearily climbed the stairs to the third floor and let himself in, stripping his coat and kicking off his shoes the moment the door clicked shut behind him.

His heavy black coat peeled back to reveal what was once a white shirt, and with disgust he realised the blood had seeped down to his socks, and soaked into the soles of his shoes. Next he got to work on his shirt which had dried into a dark rust that flaked and shed over his entrance way. The man paused at this and moved to his bathroom, tugging the light chord and stepping into the bath before continuing to strip. _I’ll need to do a good job of cleaning the entry way and going over it with chemicals later_ , he thought.

He left his clothes in the bathtub while he padded to the kitchen and picked up a black bin bag and deposited the ruined clothes in them, regretfully going back to the door for the shoes. _He’d only just gotten them, damn it._

Showered, scrubbed and bag of clothes tied up by the door, he set to work brushing and scouring the entrance before leaving all of his tools to soak in a bucket of solution. He dried off his dark wavy hair and let it sit however it chose as he slipped a pair of large glasses into the pockets of his trousers with his wallet. He gathered the bin bag into an oversized paper shopping bag and covered it with some old clothes he’d been meaning to throw out; they weren’t potential evidence in a court case – just out of fashion and threadbare.

He slipped out of the door again, and meandered down the street. He took a detour to an innocuous dumpster a few miles from his apartment and slung the bag in before he headed for the next subway station. He moved through the crowd and slipped his glasses on and boarded the next train that took him to the other side of the city. He sometimes wondered if he was too cautious when making the switch between his different lives. Surely when he was such a trusted member within the organisation, he needn’t worry and take the extravagant precautions he did. He donned disguises, took routes that looped and double backed through busy areas and crowds he could lose himself (or an observer) in. The two sides of his life he kept were to remain separate and he couldn’t afford to be lazy with his efforts to keep it that way. His gut instinct told him that should his other life ever be discovered it would be his downfall, and his instincts were nearly always right.

On the other side of the city were a handful of bars he liked to frequent. They were not particularly nice bars and not necessarily in good parts of town, but they were a world away from his day job and the company he kept there. He had never run into anyone he worked with, and when he had they had not been high up enough in the pecking order to know his face or the sound of his voice. They were safe havens where he indulged himself and pretended to be someone else entirely. In this side of his life he was just an average guy down on his luck. He had a handful of ‘friends’ he laughed with and played hands of poker in the back room with; and a kid he looks out for who reminds him so much of himself.

A few streets away from one of his havens the kid caught up with him, calling out a cheerful “Tyki!”

Tyki turned to the voice and waited; a lopsided grin on his face, hands shoved into his pockets. The kid neared and he noticed with approval that the bruises that had swollen his eye shut a few days ago were receding and changing in colour. His old man was a piece of shit but doing anything about it would expose him. So feeding the kid and giving him a few hours with adults who had no bad intentions but a sneaked beer and gambling would have to do. It was more than he had had anyway.

“What’s the dish of the day, Eeze?” He called out as the boy reached him and fell into stride.

“It’s gotta be Nicky’s, you tried the MCCM burger? Insane.” He gesticulated and enthused, and Tyki couldn’t help but laugh.

Full of greasy fries and his ear half talked off, Tyki scouted out which bar his friends were likely to be in tonight. He didn’t have a phone number he could give them, and they had always been happy to leave their relationship as ‘see you when I see you’. He’s grateful for that, but it does sometimes lend him to wonder if they have an idea of what kind of life he leads away from this little corner of the city.

Tyki finds them in the second place he goes to and Eeze scampers over to greet them as Tyki detours to the bar to get a round of drinks, quickly scanning the room just to be sure they were safe. Finding no familiar faces, Tyki finally allowed himself to relax as he wandered back to his table and settled in for an evening of drinking and laughing at bad jokes Clark would spit, his face crumpled with laughter. Momo casually leaned back on the bench seat he shared with Tyki, his gaze caught somewhere in the room.

“There’s a game in the back again tonight, should be some good sport for it.” He glanced at Tyki from the corner of his eye, before looking back out again. Tyki followed his gaze to a table in a far corner. One of the group sat there stumbled to his feet and headed to the bar, clearly for another drink. He was tall but hunched over like he was selfconscious of his height, with dark hair and shockingly pale skin. Tyki drained his beer and headed over himself, slapping Momo on his shoulder as he passed. Tyki allowed himself to be jostled through the crowd by the bar until he was deposited seemingly naturally next to his target. He looked to be an easy mark. He’d drunk far too much for his thin body to process, cheeks slapped red with easy smiles as he swayed in place even supported by the polished wood of the bar. Tyki struck up a casual conversation as they waited to be noticed by the man serving drinks. As it turns out, the mark _loved_ games and was definitely up for a friendly match of poker out the back. He’d just go grab his friends- no, _no_. Why bother them in mid conversation? Tyki finally flagged down the barman and ordered drinks for them both as he steered his new friend out the back where Momo, Clark and Eeze were waiting with another regular to their games.

Six hands in, and their new friend was a little poorer and a lot colder. A little while back the man had stood up and began emptying his pockets, trying to piece together enough money to be dealt in for another round. Tyki had stood and steadied him, picking up his littered finds and pushed enough money for a cab back into his pocket and told him if he wanted to stay in the game everything else could go on the table. So far, his shirt and his shoes were in the pot. Tyki suspects the last two beers took off with the poor sap’s self-preservation and wit.

His reverie is broken when a head pops around the closed door to their room. It glances around before settling on their new friend. Eyes narrow for a moment before a seemingly innocent expression replaces it as the intruder steps into the room.

“There you are!” He says, walking towards the drunk sitting in an undershirt and socks. He’s soft spoken and can’t be far out of his early twenties, Tyki thinks.

“It’s a closed game, no kids.”Tyki jibes, poking to see what he does. The intruder looks over with raised eyebrows, pointedly looking at Eeze behind him.

“Allen!” Their drunken friend calls, and half falls out of his chair to greet him.

He frowns and stoops to speak to “Crowley” before pulling a carefully folded stack of notes just into view at the top of his pocket which piques the room’s interest. “Surely there’s no objection to dealing me in for a single round? I’d like to win my friend’s clothes back at least.” He asks, with a wide smile and a tilt of his head.

Tyki grins in return. With the whole room pitted against him and cheating, there’s no way they’ll lose. He gestures for the man to sit and shuffles the deck.

One hand turns into five, then six and Momo and Clark sputter with rage as Allen calls. A winning hand, again. _This guy’s got the devil’s luck_. He thinks. _Or at least his fast hands._ The enticing stack of cash had turned out to be a fat stack of single dollar bills. The bastard hadn’t even had to dip into his money beyond being dealt in – his winning streak was unstoppable.  

Their other regular to the poker party had left in a huff the last round. He was a notoriously sore loser. This ‘Allen’ had won back his friend’s clothes, and half the contents of his wallet. Another from their target’s table had found their room and was watching the game over Allen’s shoulder, eyebrows raised high.

Momo slapped down his cards and pointed at Allen with his silver-white hair and pleasant expression. “You’re cheating!” He cried.

Allen’s expression turned to surprise and hurt. “I’d never cheat! Besides, I’d consider it evening the odds with the three of you against just me. Another hand?” He shuffled the half deck in his hands with an expert dexterity and Tyki was under no impression that they were in control of the game anymore.

“I think I know when to call it quits.” Tyki grins and throws his cards down, nudging for Momo and Clark to do the same. He scoops up the winnings and hands it off to his friends as he heads out the door, casting a final glance back at the card shark watching them go.

At the bar it’s last call and Momo and Clark shuffle off to their respective homes, pissed off and in no mood for a last drink. Eeze follows after them with a wave goodbye to Tyki as Clark lives near to him, and that way he has company most of the way home. Tyki stops and orders a beer, leaning back on the wood and watching the rowdy dregs making the most of the last half an hour, or collecting themselves to stumble out into the cold. After a few minutes the poker room is vacated with Crowley looking much warmer and respectably dressed, while the redhead who joined them at the end pulls him along laughing about something. Allen follows a little behind with a closed off expression that brightens to good humour when his companions glance back towards him. Tyki raises his drink with a shit eating grin as they walk past out into the cold.

He leaves with the last wave of people, ushered out the door and stands collecting himself in the brisk night air. Lighting a cigarette, he shoves his free hand into the warmth of a pocket as he walks to the subway. Tyki muses on their poker companion but still couldn’t tell how he had been cheating. He hadn’t seen his hands move out of sight, and he didn’t have the concentrated look of a person counting cards. He had looked young, and with all the pretence of innocence and geniality; Tyki felt perhaps he should be wary but instead found himself intrigued. That strange look on Allen’s face as he and his friends had left hadn’t escaped the older man’s notice - or the calculating and clever look when he had first assessed the room upon finding his friend. Tyki had almost missed it, the expression fleeting before it had been obfuscated by faux shock and concern on finding his friend clearly being swindled. To Tyki though it was clear to see, by his cheating and bluffing skills, the situation wasn’t so alien to the silver haired man. He mulled the evening over all the way to the subway station near his home where he focused himself once more on spotting any familiar faces before they spotted him.

Tyki returned home and had barely stepped in the door when his phone chimed with a message. His heart sank as he knew sleep was no longer on the agenda. Opening up his phone he finds a message from one of his ‘family members’. He was to call back ASAP. Pretending not to have seen the message really was not an option. A clean up job, which normally Tyki would not handle personally… but he wasn’t really in the position to say no to the person asking. He knew there would be fallout the next day, and probably a heavy handed reshuffle if his suspicions were correct about just who he was about to go dispose of.

He doesn’t go out the next night, his day busy and strained. By the end of it, when he finally manages to get away, he returns home; sears a tender steak and polishes off a bottle of rich Portuguese red before falling asleep on the sofa.

The day after he is needed at a ‘family dinner’, likely to probe his allegiance and how far his involvement went in the incident a few nights prior. The evening is tense and loaded with dangerous questions, and even more risky answers. Frankly, it’s terrible for Tyki’s digestion. Still, he makes good use of the gathering to network for his own advantage. He presents himself as the loyal friend, the man who can quietly get you anything, a wavering informant and an imposing figure depending on who he spoke to. Tyki was good at stepping back from the situation and picking out the real intentions of the people who he dealt with, and whose conversations he could listen in on. Tyki had a far better understanding of who was really working with who, compared to what they would have him think. He supposes that this is what has kept him alive, and atop the game. Not truly at the top, as that invited more danger than it was worth – no. Where Tyki placed himself was best, the perfect balance for the life he enjoyed and the game _he_ played.

His spare time continued to be taken in much the same fashion. The terrible upheaval and scrabble for power after one powerful figure offed another, settled uneasily after about a week and Tyki felt that he was safe. He had remained middling and inconspicuous, and his name didn’t appear on any new hit lists. Things returned to normal, and Tyki ventured out once again to indulge in his other life. What he hadn’t expected however, was to run into that cheating man with the silver-white hair again. Yet, as he stood dumbfounded and peering into an alley, dusk drawing great shadows beneath him, there he was – hanging from a fire escape and cursing up a storm.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter won't be as far away as this one was.   
> Thank you for the feedback so far! It's been a boon to my motivation.

Tyki stood a moment, watching the other man lift and kick his legs up into the rungs of the ladder with surprising dexterity as he hauled himself upwards to climb. He scaled the ladder until he reached a landing on level with the adjacent roof top. He took a small step back before running and launching himself towards the roof, scrabbling at the lip before rolling over the side. Tyki lurched forward with the jump, worried for a moment that he wouldn’t make it. He moved a little further into the alley and chose a spot against the wall to settle and light a cigarette. He listened as the cursing grew distant and silence settled into the darkness. Deciding that the cheating man wasn’t coming back he turned away, back towards his original path when a scuffling noise sounded behind him. He could just make out a small shadowy figure launch itself back across the roof to the platform the man had leapt from. With a grace of movement and an elephantine thump it dropped between levels before reaching the ground floor. The cursing resumed followed by heavy footfall in the direction of the roof and Tyki made a grab for the cat, proving to be faster than it – a ginger Tom on closer inspection. The cat scrabbled and batted at Tyki’s face, but he simply allowed it to entangle it’s claws in the front of his thick jacket where it got promptly stuck. He didn’t have to wait long before a body was throwing itself back onto the fire escape with a terrible thud that shook the whole frame.

“Hey take it easy, he’s not going anywhere.” The man looked sharply at Tyki.

“What… are you doing here?”

“Taking a walk.” Tyki moved his cigarette before it ashed on the cat and was met with a renewed bid for freedom. He flicked the cigarette away before grabbing the cat with both hands just before it dislodged it’s final claw from his suit.

“Ah, hold on. I’ll be down in a second.” The cheater slid down each set of ladders before landing on the floor with a soft sound. Tyki unpicked the cat from his jacket that was hissing and biting at his hands, and pushed him towards the other man. He’d rather the evening didn’t end in a trip to his ‘family friend’ for a tetanus shot.

“So the cheating boy is a cat person, eh? Somehow I didn’t picture that.” Tyki mused, the silence awkward and expectant.

“My name is Allen-” He said annoyance punctuating each syllable. “-and it’s not my cat.” He replied. _Allen, huh._ Tyki raised his eyebrows but didn’t press further, not all questions needed asking after all.

“Thanks for your help with catching him. I thought I’d lost him again.” Allen smiled, reaching to nervously scratch the back of his head.

“Really?” He murmured. A teasing lilt filtered through his tone. “It seemed to me catching a cat would be no trouble when you’re jumping between buildings, and up and down fire escapes with no problem. Get a lot of practice, do you?” Tyki raised his eyebrows as Allen betrayed a look of alarm. It passed quickly and he stayed silent on the matter. _Parkour enthusiast? Petty criminal? Burglar?_ Tyki tried to size him up and match that savvy, calculating, cheater in the bar with the acrobat in the alley. He certainly wasn’t your average person on the street. Why did he want the cat anyway? Ransom? Pet trafficking? Who was Tyki to judge? He’d done far, _far_ worse in his life. Tyki made a mental note to scope out the local gangs for anyone matching his description, lest it become a problem for him later. The revelation made Tyki stiffen up, suddenly uncomfortable. If there was any chance he could be recognised now or in the future… He needed to leave. There was no sense in making his face familiar.  

“Consider us even then.” Tyki smiled tightly and moved to leave.

“For what?” Allen asked, seemingly a little flustered.

“For your friend in the card game.” Tyki smiled like a shark, toothy and wide. It faltered only slightly as Allen turned a contemplative look back on him before saying:

“The day after that game Crowley told me he remembered you helping him. With the money you made him put aside from the game.” Tyki hummed, discomfort compounding. He shouldn’t have sympathised. He should have just stripped him of all of his money.  

“Did I? Are you sure your friend didn’t just forget he had it?”

“He might be naive and a sloppy drunk, but he has always been able to remember everything from a night out. I don’t really get why you did it, but thanks. There was more than enough for a cab across the city. If I hadn’t have been there at least he wouldn’t have had to walk home in the cold _naked_ , which I think your friends were happy to let him do.” Allen finished with a pointed look. Internally Tyki wanted to laugh hysterically that _he was the moral one_ out of his group of friends. He, one of the thirteen children of Noah; hands stained with blood that never comes away no matter how hard he scrubs.

“Right, like I said: Even.” Tyki wanted to leave the situation, and the presence of this man who may or may not be a secret criminal like himself. _A pity that_ , he thought. He’d like another hand of cards with the bastard just to see how he was cheating. Tyki left before Allen could say anything else and walked briskly back into the street. He felt Allen follow him to the mouth of the alley and watch him go so he took a few winding detours before going back home. He suddenly wasn’t in the mood to indulge in drinks and cards with his normal friends.

 

-

 

Allen was spitting nails. He had dropped by his Uncle’s apartment to feed his cat since he was away in another ‘adventure’ of his. Tim had been waiting by the door and made a bid for freedom between his legs as soon as it opened. Normally it wouldn’t be such an issue to simply scoop Tim up and put him back inside the apartment. Tim was a lazy ginger tom-cat who ate absolutely everything he could find and had grown bigger every time Allen had seen him.

This time, however, Tim was determined not to be caught. Allen thought it might have something to do with a svelte black cat that had been prowling the neighbourhood. Allen chased after him down the stairs and just missed him as one of his Uncle Cross’ neighbours opened the door to the building. He shot out the door and ran through the thankfully sparse traffic. Allen shuddered to think at what Cross might do if his beloved asshole of a cat got run over. Who names a cat _Tim_ anyway?

He managed to keep pace with Tim and followed him into an alley where that damned cat had jumped between platforms and ended up on a fire escape. There he sat, relaxed and watching Allen. Not watching – _taunting him._ Allen looked around for anything that he could climb onto, or release the catch on the ladder of the fire escape. He settled for a running jump from the top of the dumpster resting across the opposite wall. Allen had not been a part of the circus for many years; he wasn’t as flexible or strong as when he was performing almost every night. Not to say that he was out of shape either, but this kind of jump would have been nothing a few years back.

With surprising grace he made it and caught hold of the bottom of the ladder with one hand, before scrabbling and swinging himself upwards until his feet found purchase. From there it was a race against Tim who realised that he’d lost the upper hand and had made a desperate bid for the next building over. Allen watched in horror, thinking the worst as he threw himself after the furry asshole. He steadied himself with a breath before he made the jump across to the adjacent roof where he could see Tim loitering behind a ventilation unit. He was watching Allen, crouched low, and keeping a steady distance at all times. Allen took a step forward and Tim hunkered down another notch. Opting for another strategy, Allen forced his attention away from Tim and moved to the right most edge. There he sidled along, keeping Tim in his peripheral vision and edged closer. Tim’s tail flicked as he weighed up his options, the trap Allen was laying looked like freedom. Allen shuffled a little closer and it was enough to spook Tim who tried to double back the way they had come. Allen grabbed for him and missed, tripping with the momentum. He quickly picked himself up and ran after the cat, praying that he caught it before it got hurt. His feet connected with the platform and he steadied himself on the railing.

“Hey take it easy, he’s not going anywhere.” A voice called out in the dim light.

He stopped short when he realised that Tim had been caught by the card shark from the bar.   
“What… are you doing here?” _What a weird coincidence._

“Taking a walk.” He replied, ashing his cigarette away from Tim’s fur. The movement caused Tim to struggle. The man abandoned the cigarette entirely in favour of getting a firm grip on the cat.

“Ah, hold on. I’ll be down in a second.” Allen recovered from his momentary surprise and he made his way down the fire escape to take Tim.

He was bundled into Allen’s arms as soon as he was close enough, and Allen found himself standing there uncertain of what to say. Thank you was probably a good start, but the air was heavy and uncomfortable. Their last meeting would give him cause to be hostile, yet here he was saving Allen’s bacon.

“So the cheating boy is a cat person, eh? Somehow I didn’t picture that.”

“My name is Allen-” Allen replied. _He_ _had a name even if no-one in his life actually used it_. _Besides who is he to be calling me the cheater?_ Allen bit his tongue on what he wanted to say to the person who had just done him a huge favour. “-and it’s not my cat. Thanks for your help with catching him. I thought I’d lost him again. ” Allen plied the other man with his best smile – the one that got him out of a lot of awkward situations – and absent-mindedly scratched at Tim’s ears. Tim nipped at his fingers in protest, and struggled again. This time Allen’s grip was vice like, and Tim only succeeded in getting pressed into an even more uncomfortable position. He huffed and resigned himself, neck straining to look away to where he had wanted to go.

“Really?” The other guy teased. Allen bristled at the tone.  “It seemed to me catching a cat would be no trouble when you’re jumping between buildings, and up and down fire escapes with no problem. Get a lot of practice, do you?” Allen felt like he was on his back foot. The other man’s gaze was calculating and the question would have probably been innocent and curious coming from anybody else. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he suddenly felt disinclined to share that he had been a former circus performer. Allen said nothing and found himself trying to match up the cheater in the bar with the one helping a stranger. Perhaps he was just an animal person? He quickly dismissed the idea as he took in the other man’s clothes – free from animal hair. They looked well-kept as if they were hardly worn even if they clearly were not that expensive and he was well built under it all. The fabric of his clothes stretched to accommodate muscles, and hung a little more loosely where there wasn’t any excess body fat. His thick curly hair ran messy over his forehead, and Allen almost missed the sharp cheekbones and beauty spot under the frames of his oversized glasses.

“Consider us even then.” Allen snapped back to attention.

“For what?” Allen blurted out, trying to keep up with the situation. He hoped he hadn’t been caught staring.

“For your friend in the card game.” He smiled, his long white teeth bared – more grimace like than anything else. Allen paused at that as he remembered something.

“The day after that game Crowley told me he remembered you helping him… with the money you made him put aside from the game.”

It was all coming back now. He had helped his friend home who was absolutely plastered; and Allen had been fuming. He had been calling them every name under the sun for taking advantage of his friend like that. Crowley, bless his heart, had been desperately trying to convince Allen that they weren’t bad guys. They had been teaching him a fun game, and the tall one had even made sure he had enough money to get home. Allen had asked Crowley what he meant, and he had spent five minutes trying to get something out of his pocket before changing tactics to try and take off his trousers. Allen was exasperated and had forgotten the original purpose of the de-pantsing when Crowley had showed him a fistful of money and explained the evening as best he could.

The entire situation left him on unsure footing. His original impression of an asshole wasn’t entirely correct. He had still tried to fleece Crowley for everything, but there was clearly a moral limit to his actions.

Even now as they stood in the alley, Allen thought on this. Most people would have let the cat run past them, or would have dropped it as soon as it dug its claws in and started to unravel their clothes. What was he doing here anyway?

Tyki hummed as his expression became closed off.

“Did I? Are you sure your friend didn’t just forget he had it?”

“He might be naive and a sloppy drunk, but he has always been able to remember everything from a night out.” Allen hated that uncanny ability of his sometimes. It made the morning after a hell of a lot more mortifying. “I don’t really get why you did it, but thanks. There was more than enough for a cab across the city. If I hadn’t have been there at least he wouldn’t have had to walk home in the cold _naked_ , which I think your friends were happy to let him do.” Allen wasn’t about to lose sight of the big issue at hand here. He waited patiently for the other man’s response. Allen could hope for an apology, even if it was unlikely. Instead what he got was a quick harsh response of: “Right, like I said: Even.” before the other man made a swift exit. Allen took a few steps to follow him as he walked briskly down the street and out of sight. Allen cursed after a moment as he realised that he had forgotten to ask for his name.

Tim had struggled up his torso, trying to leverage himself over Allen’s shoulder. Allen plonked his chin down on top of Tim and walked back to Cross’ lost in thought. Maybe the guilt had made him run. He’d started withdrawing as soon as Allen had brought up their previous meeting. He shook himself free of the thought and wrestled Tim back into the apartment and fed him.

It was another few weeks before he ran into him again, leaving a bar not long after he had entered it. Allen wondered if it was coincidence, or if he’d left because of him. Another time Allen thought he saw his face in the crowd watching a street performance but he blinked and there was nobody there.

Life resumed as normal. Allen picked up part time work here and there until Crowley offered him a permanent position in his shop. He was convinced that Allen had a ‘special connection’ to the exotic plants and flowers he kept. Allen wasn’t so fond of the plants but it was calm, steady work and he liked working with his friends.

Allen, Crowley, and a handful of their friends found themselves in a small bar south-central to the city. They were sat in the back along the far wall where the long booths were. They had had to mill about at the bar for a good twenty minutes before a table opened up that was big enough to seat them all. By chance their booth was next to the one the cheating man’s friends were sitting at. Allen ignored the lingering pang of disappointment that he wasn’t there with them. The two earlier had been part of a larger group, so Allen hadn’t noticed to start with, but a particularly loud and familiar story caught his attention.  

As the evening wore on Allen couldn’t help but lean back and tune out of his own table’s conversation and tune into the one behind him. Their conversation flitted backwards and forwards between, Allen assumed, their friends, the latest baseball game and poker tricks. Eventually they started talking about Eeze – the kid that had been with them last time. Allen perked up again at this, letting himself slide into the background of his own table.

“Do you think Tyki’s looking for him?” The tall one asked, head tipped back against the padded seat.

“Probably, he’s been looking after him this long. I doubt he’d stop now… Poor kid.” _The kid was missing?_

“He’s better off this way, even if he doesn’t realise it. Hell, Eeze was praying for someone to take out his old man every night. I don’t get why he’s so upset.”  The bald man spun his almost empty bottle along the dark wood of the table before dragging it back through a ring of condensation.

“His dad might have been a piece of shit, but he was his dad. You don’t get two of ‘em. You, me and Tyki might think it’s the best thing to ever happen to that kid but families are weird. You can forgive them for damn near anything when they’re dead and gone.” The tall one huffed and scratched the short hair at the nape of his neck. _So he’s called Tyki._ Allen was brought out of his thoughts as he realised that somebody had asked him a question, and the table had turned expectantly to him. He pushed aside his curiosities and lingering empathy for the little kid who had apparently lost his father. Plastering his best smile on, he slipped back into his group.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my local coffee shop thinks I'm a serious writer, and not a dweeb writing angsty gay fanfic in a notebook.  
> Who am I to correct them?  
> This took a, uh, dark turn. Not sure how I feel about this but it will be resolved and expanded upon in the next chapter for better or worse.  
> Now with added 8tracks that I've been writing to that absolutely no-one asked for   
> https://8tracks.com/heath-m-105647/wa-hiat

It wasn’t by accident that Tyki found himself in the part of town Eeze’s father liked to binge in. Tyki, the third son of the Noah clan, was accompanied by a few of his underlings as he wandered through a run-down neighbourhood. He had made a show of taking a select few with him to get drinks and unwind – something he didn’t often do with people from this side of his life. They had all jumped upon the chance, believing themselves to be favoured in some way; That they were next to fly through the ranks and stand with the sons and daughters of the ‘Earl’. On the contrary they were all thugs who Tyki had been eyeing warily. They were ambitious and ruthless and Tyki wanted them put in their place. He was going to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

He had thought about Eeze’s father. He had deliberated long and hard about what intervention he could impose to protect the boy. Eeze reminded him of himself. Tyki had had a rough start in life, one that continued downhill and before he realised the gravity of the choices he had made, he had entangled himself with a gang. Worse still, he had risen through the ranks and sealed his exit behind him, all at the tender age of nineteen. Tyki didn’t have anyone to protect him or steer him clear of the path he had landed on, but he was determined that he would be that person for Eeze. The situation was too close to the nerve and Eeze had become like a little brother to him.  Tyki thought that the best course of action was to make him safe - to get him away from his father, and the physical and mental abuse he endured.

Eeze’s father liked to get drunk and hit him. To be more precise: he had nearly killed him a couple of times on a bender. Tyki had tried to use his position as Eeze’s friend to convince him to leave his father’s side or to fight back, do anything to change the situation that was. He even tried to get the police involved once despite how dangerous that was for him in his other life. They were, of course, as indifferent and useless as he feared them to be. There were ‘procedures to follow’, ‘a proper order to these things’. All of their paperwork and bureaucracy was going to let Eeze suffer at the hands of his father and Tyki couldn’t stand it.

So Tyki engineered some divine intervention. Eeze’s father was to be the victim of random gang violence. Eeze’s father was going to die, and Eeze would be safe. Tyki could take care of him. Hell, Eeze was practically taking care of himself anyway.

Tyki spotted his target in the distance pissing against a wall that he was slowly slipping down. Tyki wrinkled his nose in disgust, and felt his underlings follow his gaze. He smoothed his hair back with one hand as he approached the drunken man. It was easy to goad him into a fight, as wasted as he was. Eeze’s father had a terrible temper; especially when his addiction was brought into discussion. Tyki punched him a few times, aim true to his eye and his jaw. The back of his head cracked with a sickening thud against the wall as he stumbled backwards. Tyki hauled him up, deftly avoiding the weak flailing of the man’s arms. He coughed harshly, spitting blood and phlegm and teeth. Tyki kept picking him up every time he fell, and he could feel the people he had brought with him shift uncomfortably with each sickening crack.

As far as they knew Tyki had nothing against the stranger he was beating to death. He was just someone random that he had picked. It was good for his street cred in a way. There had been hushed conversations that he had been going soft or that he was secretly a cop. After all, no-one knew a damn thing about him. No one knew where he lived, or who he associated with outside of the gang, and lately he had seemed disinterested with everything. Tyki had been renowned for being particularly cruel, and very skilled at interrogation, but his performance had been lacking. Tyki hoped that this would dissolve some of the rumours – at least for a while. To be suspected of wavering loyalty was as good as a death sentence.  

Eeze’s father slipped in and out of consciousness and with whatever slipping consciousness and lucidity he had left to grasp the situation, he begged for mercy. Tyki’s fist tightened as he wondered how many times Eeze had begged for mercy himself; how many times Tyki had as a child.

His knuckles had split and blood trickled freely down to his wrist. How much of it was his own, Tyki couldn’t say. He let him drop to the floor unconscious again. Tyki thought that this time he would probably stay that way. The man's face had swollen until it had become unrecognisable, his arm purpling and misshapen where Tyki had stomped on the bone until he felt it crack. He had pissed himself at some point, the stench sharp in contrast to the rusted essence of the blood.

“We should probably get out of here…” He heard one of his underlings say. He turned at that and fixed them with a cold stare, watching them flinch. He picked up the half empty bottle of alcohol that Eeze’s father had been dragging around and emptied it over his body. With a flick he dropped his burning lighter onto his belly and watched the soaked clothes ignite. With that Tyki was done. He ached, and felt jittery despite the way he had exerted himself. His anger had dissipated long before he had finished and in its place a heavy sensation in his gut settled, that roiled acid and left him feeling unsteady. His motions were mechanical and their purpose was served. His position within the clan was protected and Eeze was free from a man that would never have stopped hurting both Eeze and himself.

“Get out of here.” Tyki barked. “Do you want the cops to catch you?” He demanded as they stood in a daze for a moment, eyes flickering in fire light. Tyki took the initiative and walked off; a route that he knew would be away from the main road where the police cars were likely to come from. They scattered after that and Tyki detoured home after he was sure none of them had followed him. He stripped his bloodied clothes and showered, standing under the spray for a little longer than necessary, before cleaning and destroying evidence. He was well practiced by this point. 

He changed into comfortable clothes and hid his face behind large glasses and low curling hair before heading out the door again. He headed for Eeze’s neighbourhood, not far from where he had murdered his father, thinking that he would be fine since he looked different and much more forgettable compared to how he was dressed previously. None of the Noah clan would be hanging around either; wanting to steer clear of any reason for the police to sniff around their organisation. He tried a few of the regular bars and ran into Clark and Momo along the way. They helped him look for Eeze and in the end they found him sitting on the steps leading up to his house hours later in the dark. There had been a police officer fussing over him for a while as Eeze looked down and barely responded before the officer left. Tyki approached and called out tentatively.

“Eeze?” He reached out and laid a hand on the boy’s slumped shoulders. Eeze flinched away as Tyki made contact, causing Tyki to pull back. After a moment’s hesitation he lowered himself onto his haunches and reached out again with a comforting hand.

“What’s happened?” He asked. 

Eeze remained still and unblinking as he replied. “My dad’s dead.”

Clark and Momo exchanged wild glances before moving forwards and crowded Eeze between them, hugging him close and rubbing soothing hands along his back. Eeze finally started to tear up at the gesture and he lowered his face onto his knees and wailed. Tyki felt the uncomfortable sensation in his gut pick up again, guilt stabbing sharply at him. _Eeze is just shocked. He’s wanted his dad out of the picture for so long. He’s just shocked._

Tyki, Clark and Momo stayed with Eeze that night in the house. The place was threadbare and filthy. Furniture was broken and barely held together with quick fixes. There were holes in the wall and countless bottles on the floor. Tyki checked for food in the kitchen and as he suspected: there was none. Clark and Momo did a cursory sweep and clean of the living room as Tyki settled Eeze onto the sofa and let him cry, huddled up against him. 

Tyki couldn’t sleep that night. Instead he sat there awake and pretended to be asleep as Eeze cried between bouts of passing out from exhaustion. By dawn Tyki had slipped into a light sleep and roused himself groggily. He found the bathroom and relieved himself and by the time he returned Eeze was awake and quietly staring at the floor. 

“Let’s get some breakfast.” He said and watched for Eeze’s small nod. He waited as the boy got changed and washed his face that was still puffy and swollen from crying. His eyes glistened as the urge to cry surged every few minutes. Tyki was feeling too sick to even look at food, but thought that Eeze probably hadn’t had anything decent to eat in a while.

Tyki couldn’t get two words out of Eeze throughout the meal. The kid pushed half of his food around the plate and Tyki called it a victory that even half had gone down.

Tyki wondered what would happen to Eeze from there on. His sight had been a little short in the moment as his anger had boiled and lead his fists. Eeze still sported the black eye given to his father a few days back, and Tyki was sure there were bound to be purpling welts hidden beneath his shirt. The boy’s mother was in prison, and still had a few years left on her sentence. By the time she would be out, Eeze would be a legal adult and no longer a ward of the state. The police had left him alone with family friends that night but his lack of legal guardian was sure to be addressed within a few days. Tyki wondered if they could wrangle something to put Clark in that position. For all of his gruff demeanour Clark was fond of Eeze and had mentioned once or twice he would take him in in a heartbeat. Tyki wondered if Eeze would be happy with that. 

His phone went off and Tyki checked it with a sinking feeling, he was being called to work for the Noah clan. “I’m sorry; I’ve got to go…” He said, laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Eeze still hadn’t spoken a word since the night before. Silent tears were streaming down his face; glimmers of emotion would burst through his features before slipping back into a blank mask. He guided Eeze home, and stocked up with some food and creature comforts at a corner store on the way. With a heavy heart Tyki left him there alone and hoped Momo or Clark would stop by soon. 

Tyki couldn’t find the time to stop by Eeze’s for a week after that. He felt distant worry niggling at the back of his head, but there just wasn’t a way to see him safely. Finally on a bitter Sunday night he slipped into the streets his lighter half called home. Tyki first stopped by Eeze’s house only to find it looming tall and hollow above him. The lights were all out and the door was locked shut. The trash can that should have been overflowing on the night before collection sat half empty and hardly used. The house felt off, like Tyki had been the last person to pass through the threshold a week prior. Tyki banged on the door and waited a few minutes as he watched and listened intently for life inside.

Deciding to try a different avenue Tyki headed for Clark’s house to see if he knew anything about Eeze. Tyki walked briskly, worry rising in his throat – the viscious bile in his stomach never really having settled since the week before. His hands clenched where they had been thrust into his pockets. For all the world he looked relaxed and calm, casual even as his long legs naturally took him quickly to his destination. As he neared the front door it swung open revealing his friend with a wild expression. Taken a back, Tyki halted as he put his hands up to catch Clark before he barrelled into him. 

“Where’ve you been all week, man?” Clark had stopped in front of Tyki and was gripping him firmly by the arm. Clark had never once asked that question before, not in all of the years Tyki had known him and hung around with him. Something was wrong.

“What’s happened? Is it Eeze?”

“I don’t know where he is. I caught him picking a fight the other day and it was damned lucky I was there. He’s never like that – I mean it’s Eeze! He’s cheeky but he isn’t violent, not by a long shot.” Clark was rambling, sentences slurring together as he rushed to get them out. Tyki dug his fingers into the back of his neck, flexing into the tension. This wasn’t good. What Clark was describing sounded nothing like the kid that had been part of their little group. The Eeze he knew was resilient and kind – a little shit at times like all kids were want to be – but he certainly wasn’t violent. Eeze had been so careful to never be like him, like his father. 

“He was out there trying to take on kids that were easily so much bigger than him, kids that want in to gangs. The ones that pose on corners and do petty shit like they’re all that. They wouldn’t have let him go just because he was a kid. What- what was Eeze even doing? Tyki I can’t find him.” Clark was working himself up into frenzy, worry overtaking his rationality, and driving his sentences in circles. Tyki exhaled long and slow. 

“Okay, let’s go look for him.” Relief washed over Clark’s features, and the grip eased a little on Tyki’s arm. “Where’s Momo?” Tyki asked as he turned back towards the road, Clark pulling the door shut as he followed him. Clark shrugged and Tyki decided to just focus on finding Eeze as his rising guilt threatened to consume him whole.

They found Eeze later with a group of friends and empty bottles of liquor. Tyki picked him up and threw him over his shoulder without a word, not even flinching as the boy vomited down his back. Clark was sent out to buy supplies that had run low from what Tyki had left behind the week before. Eeze was laid on his sofa sullen and unfocused. After forcing water and a rounded meal into him, he started to sober up. Eeze’s gradient slipped from numb-drunk to just numb as Tyki and Clark sat with him. Tyki had stripped his jacket and sweater off and had put them on to wash as he waited for Eeze to have enough clarity for a conversation.

Eeze began crying, fat tears spilling from his eyes and staining his cheeks, as soft sobs wracked his frame. The boy turned his head to the back of the couch as if to hide it but Tyki reached out and pulled Eeze towards him. He pulled Eeze to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug; hands circling across the boy’s back in a soothing motion. Doubt coiled around his heart and squeezed painfully. Tyki thought he had done the right thing, that Eeze would feel free; That Eeze would _be_ free. Doubt unpicked the seams of his plan and laid bare its festering selfish roots. That dark side of Tyki poisoned everything it touched, and Tyki sat there feeling it cry and heave and leech into the light side of his life like ink blooming on silk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long hiatus! If you're still sticking with this fic then you have my gratitude. I'm going to try my very best to finish this fic before I disappear again.

The days blurred together as Tyki tried to balance his responsibility to look after Eeze with the demands of his other life. Needless to say, he wasn’t great at it. Balance was a difficult thing to achieve, and its success could only really be measured by the weight of its absence.

He slept fitfully, the same worrying dreams playing on a loop. That night it was the dream about his teeth. His tongue pushed at each tooth, and they gave way as if they were a gingerly stacked line of dominos. Frantically, he nudged at the other teeth in his mouth, sure that they would hold fast but his horror grew as each one folded under the pressure. Tyki spat, a hailstorm of blood and bone tapping on the floor. His hands reached to his lips, poking into gaps and felling remaining teeth. Tyki woke, eyes opening quickly as he ripped himself free from the dream. His tongue ran over his teeth and he prodded at them experimentally, sighing gratefully as they held fast and the dream faded from his thoughts. Glancing at the clock on his night stand, Tyki gauged whether it was worth trying to go back to sleep. 4 _AM. Not much point, really._

He stood and stretched, his limbs were heavy and dull. It felt like he hadn’t slept properly in weeks. It had never been like this before. In the back of his mind Tyki knew that this restlessness had begun not long after he had killed Eeze’s father but such acts had never affected him like this in a long time. He had always gone to sleep soundly at the end of the night, woken up refreshed and new. In the beginning – of course it was different. He had eased into his darkness like a hot bath; slowly, slowly until he was submerged, the sharp peaks of knees disappearing under the tide. There had been no space to process what he had done beyond the way his raw nerves set alight with the violence. His hands moved without thought. Perhaps he was finally cracking. He really was going soft.

The weeks slipped by and Tyki’s sleepless nights grew in number – chasing around Eeze instead and getting him out of trouble. He had just settled heavily into his couch, two bottles of wine empty and hollow in front of him when his phone rang with a sharp trill. Groaning, he fished for it in his pocket. He had _finally_ been drifting off. It was Momo on the other end of the weak line, sounding harried and just as tired as Tyki felt. Eeze was AWOL again. The pounding behind his eyelids sharpened as he lifted himself up onto his feet. When had the communication between him and Eeze decayed? Eeze used to tell him everything, now he can barely get a full sentence out of the boy. Eeze never used to cause trouble like this.

Tyki shrugged on the thickest jacket that he owned as the card shark and ventured out into the night, fingers numb from wine and the chill wind.

He checked the usual haunts, and streets that he knew were familiar to Eeze, Momo catching up at the corner of a road. The night had passed into the small hours, only a few people wandering the streets drunk and wandering to and from clubs. They stood at an intersection lost for ideas. Tyki wracked his brain when he caught a small sound in the distance. He snapped his head to where he thought it came from and listened again. He started jogging towards it, Momo in tow. It wasn’t likely, but everything was worth investigating in their search. The sound grew louder and Tyki could hear the glass smashing. Before them was a store front, the panes of glass jagged and ruined, dust and shards littering the sidewalk. A short figure had their hoodie up and was winding up their baseball bat. Tyki marched forwards, hoping to reach the bat before they noticed him. His shoe crunched on glass and the figure whirled around bat connecting with the meat of Tyki’s arm. He hissed and grabbed at it, throwing it away. The figure went limp as he did, the hood sliding back to reveal a face painted in horror. Eeze.

“Tyki, I- I didn’t mean-“ Tyki breathed out sharply, his arm pulsating. Experimentally he touched it, lifted and twisted, meeting no resistance or sudden pain; unlikely broken or fractured.

“Eeze, what are you doing?” He grabs his shoulder and pulls him away from the shop front a little. Eeze stares at him wordlessly, eyes wide and glassy. Tyki tries again.

“Why are you doing this? Is this the kind of person you want to be?” Tyki watches the tears well up, frustration laced into the cuts and sores on the boy’s hands.

Above them, Tyki hears a rusted window forced open and a distressed cry.

“My shop!” They peer up into a familiar pale face, dark hair mussed with sleep. “Why? What? I’m calling the police!” Tyki lurches at that, raising his hand, imploring.

“Wait please! This child is in my care and has recently been through some really traumatic things. Can we please settle this ourselves. I’ll pay for the damage just don’t call the police.”

The man pauses half in the window, uncertain. Tyki tries again.

“I promise I’ll pay for the windows and I apologise for this. I know we didn’t get off on the best foot before, but I’m sure you know that I have a conscience and I intend to make this right.” Tyki’s other hand is firm on Eeze’s shoulder who stares guiltily at the floor.

The pale man leans his hands on the windowsill and pivots himself better to look at the damage. He murmurs and wails about the damage, tears streaking his face and catching the street lights.

After a few moments another window opens and an elderly neighbour peeks their head out.

“Oh my God! Crowley! Your poor shop! You fiends! I’m calling the police!” She thrusts a finger in Tyki’s direction, scowling beneath her curlers. Tyki draws a breath to protest but is beaten by Crowley’s reaction.

“Wait! Mrs. Muir, don’t call the police. They’re going to pay for the damages.” The elderly neighbour looks aghast, swivelling between Tyki, Eeze and Momo and her eccentric neighbour.

“You can’t let them get away with this! It’s a crime, and it’s disrupting the neighbourhood! I was _asleep!_ ” Crowley gesticulates wildly as he leans further out of the window to shout to her own perch.

“No! No! I understand the situation here and I know this man will pay; we have met each other before. He’s a good sort, Mrs. Muir.” Crowley’s words sink into the mire of Tyki’s gut, setting tides in motion. He feels sick. He hasn’t felt like this for years.

“I’m choosing not to press charges, there won’t be any further disturbances tonight Mrs. Muir I promise.” Crowley half-heartedly smiles at her, assuaging her indignant rage. She disappears back inside without another word and slams her window shut, and drawing the curtains close. Tyki watches an edge of curtain be pulled back and he’s sure that she’s still watching from the darkness of the room. Crowley slumps over the sill and surveys the carnage with an air of defeat.

“Thank you, Crowley. I mean it. _We_ -“ Tyki begins, pointedly pulling Eeze closer by his shoulder. “-will be back early in the morning to clean up, and I will have money for you.” Crowley nods and tells them that he will see them in the morning. As soon as his window shuts, Tyki is crouching to put himself on eye level with Eeze who had been silently leaking tears, anger in the crease of his brow.

“Eeze what’s going on?” Tyki feels Momo move forward and place a hand on Eeze’s back. “We’re here for you but you need to let us know what’s going on. Why have you been out drinking and fighting? Why did you take a bat to the windows?” Eeze shrugs and doesn’t meet either of their eyes. Tyki bites back his anger.

“I-“ Eeze begins, voice small. “It’s not fair. There was a lot of stuff I wanted to say to Dad and he’s just gone. I’ll never say that to him, he’ll never say anything to me again. I know I hated him sometimes but he was my Dad. I wished that he would die.” Guilt grips his quivering voice. “It’s my fault, it was wrong of me to feel happy when I heard the news. It was so wrong of me and I don’t always mean it. I…” He trails off, frustration forming the awkward angles of his limbs, puffing out angry white clouds into the night. Tyki feels each of Eeze’s tears as bullets he swallows down, heavy and leeching poison inside him. He did this to Eeze. He thought he did right by Eeze. He thought he gave Eeze what he wanted, what Tyki had wanted. He had in some ways, and in other ways he hadn’t. It wasn’t something that he could make black and white, not to Eeze anyway.

Momo grabs Eeze out of Tyki’s grasp and wraps his arms around him, hugging tight. He murmurs comfort and tells him it’s alright; it’s alright to feel like that - that there’s no right way to feel and be when it came to his old man. He tells him that Eeze is a good kid and he lets Eeze wail and sob into his jacket. Tyki knows Mrs. Muir and Crowley can hear, and that Mrs. Muir at least is watching this shame of his.

They return in the morning, in fresh clothes and barely rested. Tyki begins, picking the large piece of glass with thick gloves and gets Eeze to carefully sweep the dust and smaller shards. They clean it up before the morning rush starts. Crowley meets them, looking just as forlorn and defeated as the night before, craning his neck to take in the damage. Tyki asks him if he had a company he used before and organises replacements, paying for it from one of the accounts he has as a Noah. He doesn’t keep enough in any of the accounts he uses in this part of his life. He hopes it goes unnoticed by the clan, the people in front of him accept straight away that it comes from a particularly lucky poker game. Crowley is grateful that Tyki keeps his word and his expression lightens a little when Eeze offers an apology for his actions.

After a while he sends Eeze off with Clark who escorts him to school, and stays to tidy up the place and help knock through the unsafe and partially destroyed panes. He rolls his sleeves up and works at using a homemade suction cup to grasp the pane. That is how he is seen, a mess with dark bags beneath his eyes, plungers in each hand when Allen calls out to him. Surprised he turns, and catches an incredulous look from the white haired man. Tyki licks his lips, feeling a little put out and uncomfortable with the turn of events. He was still uncertain of this man’s character. Allen watches the motion before making a deliberate sweeping observation of Tyki. His brows are furrowed as he turns to take in the rest of the shop.

“Crowley?” He calls, looking for his friend. Tyki feels almost annoyed that he was ignored but carries on with what he was doing. Allen moves further into the shop and finds his friend, gesturing at the front windows. Tyki can no longer hear the conversation but he supposes it’s not beyond what he expects. After a minute or two Allen returns and sidles up to Tyki. Tyki looks at him expectantly.

“What can I help with?” Allen asks, neck craning to take in the edges of the windows. Tyki follows his gaze and clears his throat. He thinks about the best course of action with two pairs of hands. When he looks back he catches Allen’s gaze.

“Can you grab that over there?”

 They worked quietly for a while, not really speaking more than necessary though Tyki felt like he was being watched, or perhaps a better way to say it is: dissected. It made him uneasy. Tyki felt his phone vibrate and quickly swept the area with his eyes. Allen was back inside fetching something and most people were avoiding the sidewalk where they were working. He took the call and listened to the instructions relayed to him. Just as he was hanging up, Allen reappeared from the doorway and headed towards the other side of the shop. They had largely finished that side; the frames themselves clear of shards and debris. Allen was reaching up to sweep around the top corners when Tyki saw it, just about catching the light in the dull winter sun. He lurched forward and reached for Allen, pulling him back out of the way as a shard that had been resting hidden above the frame fell where he had been standing. Tyki let out a small breath.

“Careful.” Fully expecting a short rebuttal he found himself surprised as Allen turned quickly away from where he had fallen close to Tyki and mumbled quick thanks. It was awkward. Perhaps Tyki should have pushed him instead of pulling him close to him out of the way of danger. Clearly Allen wasn’t comfortable with Tyki and Tyki didn’t blame him. They quickly got back to work as realisation dawned on Tyki; he was disappointed. He was disappointed that Allen wasn’t warming up to him. Tyki quietly worked away, mulling over his thoughts until they were done. The wreckage had been cleared away and it was clean and safe once again; and most importantly ready for the new panes of glass.

“Thanks for the help, Allen.” Tyki called to Allen’s back as he slipped inside to talk to Crowley.

“It’s all clear and again I apologise. Thank you for being understanding Crowley.” He leant against a counter and regarded Crowley. Crowley sheepishly rubbed at his neck and shoulder.

“I’ll be honest; I was still going to call the police yesterday until I heard you talking to the boy. I didn’t think you were coming back this morning. I’m grateful that you did, though.” That was fair, Tyki supposed. He’d have to be a fool to take a swindler at his word. He was just lucky that he had a kind heart and empathised with Eeze. It would be Tyki’s fault if Eeze ended up with a record, and fell in with Tyki’s kind of people. He didn’t want that for Eeze. Eeze deserved better.

“When are the new windows due?” Tyki asked, rolling a fresh cigarette between his fingers. He’d wait ‘til he was outside to light up.

“Next week. I’ll have to use plastic to cover the windows until then and move the valuables elsewhere. I hope the frost didn’t damage my plants too much tonight. “ Crowley replied, as he organised a box he was filling with other smaller boxes.

Ah. Tyki didn’t think of that.

“Let me know if you lose out because of it, I’ll make it right.” Tyki felt the guilt of Eeze wrack through him more than worry about a few plants; but he knew he needed to make this right. He couldn’t make it right with Eeze, could never tell Eeze but he could do this. This in some small way is his reparation.

“…That’s kind of you. How big was that poker winning? You’re putting yourself out much more than I would expect of anyone.” Crowley looked almost confused, then suddenly mortified. “Oh! I didn’t mean to be rude about it I-“ Tyki waved him off and gave him something like a smile.

“It’s fine, I did strip you of everything in a game of poker after all.” He teased Crowley, grinning cat like as he glanced away. “Besides Eeze is my responsibility. His actions are my responsibility and I’ll make it right.” Tyki straightened himself up at this and started heading towards the door.

“I’ll be back when they fit the windows; if there’s anything else you need tell me then.” It was a calculated risk that Tyki took when he gave Momo his phone number. He’s not about to get lax and give it to anybody who crosses his path. Pausing in the doorway of the shop, Tyki lit up and took a deep drag of his cigarette. Flicking the lighter closed and slipping it back into his pocket he noticed Allen staring at him again, brow furrowed and contemplative. Tyki nods to him and shuffles on, hands in his pockets. He’s got a few hours at home, napping and freshening up before he has to head back out for what is sure to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

True to his word, Tyki returned to Crowley’s flower shop. Allen was outside giving a blinding smile to two ladies who were fawning over some potted roses. Tyki caught his eye as he went in the shop, eyebrow raised. Allen’s expression faltered a little but he made up for it by dialling up the charm. He was interesting, for sure.

The windows had been installed and Tyki was pleased to note that the company had put the extra flourish into the detail and designs that overlaid the glass. He had called them up and put some extras in as a surprise for Crowley and if his expression was anything to go by, Tyki had chosen well.

“Tyki isn’t it? Thank you so much!” Crowley reached for his hand and shook it vigorously.

“I don’t remember giving you my name, Crowley.” He began, evenly, as he quickly surveyed the shop.

“Oh, uh, excuse me; Allen gave me your name.” Crowley looked on, confused by Tyki’s demeanour. Sure, it was a little off etiquette, but not deserving of the cold reception. Tyki pasted a thin, polite, smile upon his features.

“Did he? Well, never mind, I’m glad you like the windows. Was there anything else you needed?” Tyki asked.

“Oh, no! Not at all, you’ve done more than enough! You’ll be happy to know that all my plants survived that initial night as well. Allen definitely does have the magic touch, he kept them all going!” Crowley grinned, arm sweeping wide to gesture to the room full of greenery in the bleak winter cold. Tyki nodded as he politely looked at what Crowley was showing him.

“Then I’ll be off. Good luck with your business.” Tyki heard Crowley begin to say something but he swept out the door quickly. Allen knew his name. This was a problem. He leaned against the pane of the newly fitted windows as Allen finished talking to the ladies. He lit a cigarette and made no attempt to hide his open observation of the man. He could see Allen growing uncomfortable; for the best really, to put the other on uneven footing before an interrogation begins.

“Crowley tells me the fitting went smoothly and all the plants from last time are just fine.” He stares down at Allen over his cigarette. Allen seems almost uncomfortable. “I have to thank you for that on my part, as I’d need to replace the stock here as well. Let me treat you to lunch as a thank you.” Tyki watched Allen expectantly, casually ashing his cigarette to the side.

“I-“

“I won’t accept no for an answer.” Tyki smiled pleasantly. Allen looked at him uncertainly and slowly nodded. “Great! Where would you like to go? I’m sure you know some nice places.” Tyki was going to watch Allen’s choice and decide whose group’s territory it fell under and how Allen was related. It was a test, and he wondered if Allen would see through it.

Allen suddenly jerked his eyes away from Tyki’s and checked his watch.

“I’ll just wash up and grab my jacket.” He wouldn’t meet Tyki’s eyes, quite. Perhaps he’ll escape through the back? Tyki watched him carefully move through the shop and talk to Crowley. He didn’t bother to hide it; Tyki was in control of the situation. Allen’s cover would be blown if he disappeared while he was watching. They headed out down the street and Allen listed off the restaurants nearby and the type of food they served and how expensive they were. He knew _a lot_ of restaurants. A foodie? Throwing Tyki off the scent? Allen led them down a quiet street, and Tyki couldn’t find any markings or styles of gangs that might claim that part of the city. It was just an ordinary diner. Allen waited impatiently in the doorway as Tyki looked at the front of the place and back to Allen.

They were seated away from the window along the far wall. The booth was fairly private, by the kitchens and out of the way. Tyki browsed through the menu given to him by a waitress. It offered typical diner food with some options from the Caribbean, a blend of the two and likely a community staple; neutral ground, nothing to discern from his choice. He let Allen recommend him something and boggled at the number of dishes the other man ordered.

Tyki let the small talk about the food fade away as he fixed Allen with a look, eyebrow pointedly raised.

“So how did you know my name to give it to Crowley, Allen?” Allen stiffened and took on a reddish hue. He did his best to compose himself before answering.

“Don’t you think it’s rude that you know our names but we don’t know yours?” Allen tried an innocent look. Tyki wasn’t having it.

“You’re avoiding the question, kid.” Allen frowned at that.

“Allen.” He reminded. “-and I overheard your friends in a bar.” Ah.

“The ones you met at the poker night?” Allen nodded. “Isn’t it rude to be listening into other people’s conversations?” He teased, leaning forward to grin at Allen; his story was believable but that didn’t mean he wasn’t lying.

Allen leaned back and crossed his arms. “What does it matter anyway? So your name is Tyki.”

“Well it warrants attention when someone is stalking me and coming up with information I haven’t given them. I have to ask myself why you’re interested enough to know?” Tyki leans back into his chair, mirroring Allen who falters.

“I’m not- _interested_ or stalking for that matter.” Allen fidgets, embarrassed.

“Then why are you here?” Tyki asks. His suspicion is deflating a little. He has been carefully watching Allen’s expressions and mannerisms, watching the direction his eyes take when he answers. He’s got a great poker face, Tyki can attest to that but Tyki can _feel_ it. Allen doesn’t belong to a family, he thinks. Who is he then? Allens eyes catch with Tyki’s before he answers.

“Free food.” Hesitation; not just the food. Tyki puffs out a laugh.

“Am I a walking wallet then? You’ll have me pay back my poker winnings?” The white haired man considered him.

“No, you’ve paid that up. What you took was Crowley’s trust and you’ve paid that back. It was… good of you to do what you did for that kid, for Crowley. I don’t imagine many people would go the lengths you did. I don’t know what to think of you, Tyki.”

Allen smiled politely at the waitress who brought their food, plates and plates of it.

That was… unexpected. “It’s really nothing.” And it was. Tyki didn’t deserve to be praised for putting a sticky plaster on a stab wound he made.

With no small amount of morbid fascination, Tyki watched Allen wolf down everything he ordered and daintily dab at some stray sauce that had found it’s way to the corner of Allen’s mouth. Tyki dragged his eyes from there down to Allen’s still mostly flat stomach and felt his world shake. How on earth did he put that much food away? _Where did it go?_

“You have quite the appetite for someone so thin.” Tyki began as Allen sipped at his water. “Certainly wouldn’t expect it from someone so agile that can leap between buildings.” Perhaps Tyki could have an explanation for that if Allen truly wasn’t someone to be suspicious of. Allen hummed in acknowledgement.

“I was a circus performer.” Not the explanation Tyki was expecting, it surprised him enough that he felt his face show it.

“Really?” He asked, no longer bothering to hid e his interest. Allen nodded and dug around in his pocket, producing an old model smart phone. He brushed along the screen with the pad of his finger until he found what he was looking for and showed the screen to Tyki. It was a still of Allen mid-flight on a trapeze. He swiped the screen; Allen painted as a clown, another performer crowded into shot with his arms over the younger man’s shoulders. He looked to be in his late teens in the photos, his hair still shockingly white. Was it dyed? Soft to the touc- Allen swiped the screen again and showed a final photo of him sitting on scenery props with two others practicing their juggling, out of costume. The phone was pulled back and Tyki let out a soft breath. A small “huh”. He swiped through a few more photos before putting the phone back in his pocket, an unreadable expression on his face.

“How long were you with the circus?”

Tyki left the diner with Allen as the blue winter light started dimming. Allen hurryied off as his lunch hour had become plural and he’d left Crowley alone until nearly closing. It had been an eventful meal, and Tyki left with a vague feeling of surprise and a vigour he hadn’t felt for a while. He was curious. Allen wasn’t affiliated with anyone, just an ex circus-performer. Tyki supposed you would have to have an interesting start in life to join a circus so young and he mentally sorted their previous interactions with the new knowledge. Allen was no longer a person of interest, he was just _interesting_. He wandered towards Eeze’s house wondering if he might run into Allen again, realising that he didn’t have to leave it to chance. He will meet him again.

Tyki didn’t leave his number with Allen and he didn’t say anything about meeting him again, didn’t even say goodbye as Allen single-mindedly hurried off back to work. It was two weeks before Tyki turned up, browsing succulents and ivies in Crowley’s shop. Tyki noticed Allen first; he was looking through a list in a worn ledger and Tyki caught the small smile of surprise when Allen noticed him. It made his chest feel a little lighter and emboldened him to wander over for small talk. He had chosen to visit the shop near closing, with the hope that he might casually invite Allen out for dinner. A happy coincidence.

Allen agreed and Tyki didn’t have to wait long before they were wandering off again and talking about very little. They had tapas and too much wine. After two and a half bottles Tyki challenged Allen to a poker match.

“So you can cheat my money off of me?” Allen snorted, leaning against a low wall outside the bar they had been in. It was closing time and almost too dark to see anything. The small light from the lamp at the end of the road seemed to be swallowed up by the winter air.

“Like you can talk.” Tyki grinned down at him, hands hidden inside pockets, elbows jutting out so they just touched Allen’s. The younger man eyed him, mischievous.

“We don’t play for money.”

It was later that Tyki found himself in Allen’s apartment without his shoes, his nice warm sweater and maintaining his buzz with some beer found in the fridge. Allen, the fiend, was completely clothed. Not a single article was missing. His shit eating grin and predatory eyes had come free after his second beer and gone was the poker face and innocent demeanour. Here was the person that Tyki was fascinated by.  
“Cheater.” Tyki called, throwing down his cards. There goes his henley. He rested back on his forearms and craned his neck back to stretch it. He righted himself and felt Allen’s gaze. _Oh._

“Prove it.” Allen replied. Tyki raised himself up onto his haunches and leaned forward. The pads of his fingers skimmed along Allen’s wrist, dipping inside the shirt; the rustle of fabric in soft harmony with shallow breath. Eyes never leaving his, Tyki pulled free an ace. He surged forward letting his weight fall onto his other hand that bracketed Allen in where he leaned against the bed. Moving in close and relishing the sound of Allen’s breath and the sight of his pupil’s blown wide, he teased.

“What’s this, then?” Allen wasn’t looking at the card. “I think the penalty for cheating should be to even the score.” The card was dropped as Tyki moved to palm at the fabric across Allen’s chest.

Allen reached out to tangle his hands into Tyki’s hair bringing him down into a kiss. Tyki complied, moving closer to straddle the other man for better access. He felt him shiver and sigh wherever he touched and kissed.

In the small hours of the morning, Tyki felt real. He felt like he belonged again in this side of his life. It all began with Allen. Wherever he touched it was like absolution. The darkness within him receded with each quiet moan. He chased them as if ravenous, and was rewarded with more. Tyki’s heart felt light, lighter than he had ever known it.


End file.
